


When They Read Your Writing

by jarethsdragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), overwatch
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dragon sex, F/M, Other, Reader Insert, Unusual Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 09:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: You write fiction for fun.  You particularly like the Alpha/Beta/Omega stories, don’t you?  Unfortunately, sometimes, the wrong person can occasionally read what you wrote.  But you wanted people to read it, didn’t you?





	1. The Blackwatch Commander Finds Out What You’ve Been Writing

**Author's Note:**

> These stories are just Drabbles that stand by themselves. There is no linear progression—just random ideas that have no found a home anywhere else. Each chapter deals with how someone deals with finding or reading something you wrote. What did you write? Well...that is a story....

You bounced off of Gabriel Reyes as he came around the corner. Unfortunately, your notebook gave up the fight and all of the pages and loose pieces splattered all over the floor. “Sorry,” you muttered, scrambling to pick up the paper.

“Be more careful,” he grunted, kneeling down to help you. When you flinched at his gruff tone, he sighed, “What is all this? A report?”

You turned bright red, scrambling faster to grab them. This was your private notebook of your writing—the fanfic, the silly poems, all of it. You weren’t completely comfortable showing anyone the stuff you wrote in your spare time. You sure didn’t want your Blackwatch commander, Gabriel “Reaper” Reyes, to see all of the slutty, sexy things you had written.

And you sure as hell didn’t want your crush—a.k.a your commander a.k.a. Gabriel “Reaper” Reyes—to read it and find out how much you were lusting after his body.

He handed you the first handful of pages, but he stopped to read the last page. “What is this?”

“It’s...ahh....” You turned tomato red. “Just...just some stuff I was writing.”

Gabriel growled as he glanced over your writing again. “Show it to me after hours. After dinner, come to my place.”

“You want to...read it?!” you squeaked.

“1900 hours,” he nodded. You were already shaking your head and he grunted, “I will expect to see you there—or be written up.”

“What?! Why?”

“Let’s see if you’re writing is on the level.” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re selling off secrets.”

“No, sir!”

“Then show me.”

You kept telling yourself that you would be glad to get some constructive criticism. And everyone knew that Reyes could lay out some criticism once he got going. You told yourself it would be fine. At worst, he’d curse you out.

He let you in with barely a grunt and took the notebook and sorted pages and began reading. He took his own sweet time reading it, ignoring as you shifted from foot to foot. Finally, he glanced up with a grin on his face.

“So what’s this about alphas and omegas?” he smirked.

Of course, he’d choose that one. You stammered, “I-it’s a.... Well, I first read it in some werewolf fiction. That the alphas are the leaders—.”

“Obviously,” he drawled thickly.

“And they have ruts and then the omegas have heats. And then...they...ahh... Well, the purpose is that they have.... Then they have kids.” Your cheeks were red and now your ears were getting hot. “The alphas compete...for the omegas sometimes and they have l-l-like....”

He was amused by your stammering. “I see. And how long are these little orgies?”

You swallowed. Oh yeah—he read that one. “I...wrote.... That is....in my story—it was a week.”

“A week? Non-stop?” He grinned. “And that is what you like?”

You backed up a startled step or two. “Uhh... Me?!”

He shot up to his feet, grinning as you yelped. “Oh, yeah.” Stalking around you, he smirked as you stared at him. “So that’s what you like?” Your mouth went dry and suddenly the whole room felt dry and airless. Finally he was in front of you again, smirking smugly. “And what would I be?”

You yelped and jumped as he stomped towards you. The papers fell around like feathers to the floor. “A-a-alpha!” You shook as he took another threatening step towards you. “You’re...you’d be an alpha.”

He snorted out a soft chuckle. “Niña....what are you?” His arms crossed over his chest as humor made him grin. “Do tell me.” You turned red again. “Are you an omega?”

You nodded slowly, backing away from him nervously. Suddenly a cool wall hit your back and you took a startled step and looked stupidly at it. You were staring at the smooth drywall when his dark hands slammed on each side of your head. You almost hit his face with your nose as you gasped and stared up at him.

His nose when to your neck. “Little omega, you are in heat, aren’t you?” His hips came forward and you could feel the thick lump of his hard cock in his pants. “I think you are.”

You shook your head wildly with a soft cry. “It’s just a story!”

His teeth were blinding white as he smiled down at you. Rubbing your cheek with his gently, he purred to hear your soft sound as his rough stubbly beard against your skin. “What if I am...in a rut? What if I decide that you smell...tasty?” He smirked patiently as you cringed further away, your knees buckling as he leaned over you. “And here you are, a nice, nearby omega.”

You squealed and darted around him, stumbling to the floor on nothing just out of his reach. He turned slowly, every muscle mouthwatering as you watched. You stared up at him with the papers crinkling around you.

“Niña tonta. Did you think that your alpha would let you escape?” He stepped forward. “A tasty little omega like you?” He was right over you and his heavy hand hit your shoulder and gripped you. “You need to take care of your alpha, omega.”

You shuddered as his other hand came to rip your shirt down the back. You couldn’t help jerking as he laughed and tossed the rag aside. That made you buck up almost to your feet, but he shoved you down again. His hands ripped the rest of your clothes off your body easily.

“No tienes secretos de mi,” he rasped as you shivered there. “You are an open book to me.” To prove it, his finger dug into your core and he found the wet waiting there for him. “And now I am right at the page I want.”

You scrambled wildly only to be pulled up short as he grabbed your wrist. He pinned you on your stomach effortlessly—big man that he was—and yanked down his pants. All you could think of was profanities and curses as you felt his huge, hard cock hit your backside. He twisted, rubbing it against you gently with a wordless crooning. “J-j-just a story!” you burbled weakly. “It’s just a story. It’s not real.”

His free hand gave you the gentlest caress. “But I like this story.” He rolled you over, grinning down at you as your back hit the carpet. Immediately, he was between your legs and lapping at your breasts. “Although, mi alma—you surprised me. An entire week of nearly continuous sex? It makes me curious what other fantasies you have.”

He began suckling your breasts and gently nipping your nipples until you closed your eyes and whined, arching up towards him. Your blood went molten as heat flooded you. Even when he pinned your wrists to the floor, rutting his overheated cock against your hip like an animal, you felt the arousal swamping you.

It was almost painful as your imagined story and his very real presence fused in a feverish rush. He growled as he spread your thighs a bit wider and it was just like you had imagined it in the story. Your stomach jumped, clenching wildly as your core suddenly felt achingly, throbbingly empty. When his rough beard scraped your neck and his teeth grazed the thin skin there, you let out an animalistic whine.

“Is the omega in heat?” he purred in that low, husky tone. His finger slid inside, and instantly you gripped it with a sloppy sound. Slowly, he thrust that finger in and out, waiting for that perfect moment when you were starting to struggle against his patient pace. “Are you in heat little omega?”

“Y-y-y-yes!” Your head lolled, and you could hear your scattered papers crinkling and crackling under you like dried leaves. “Fuck yes.”

He chuckled softly at that. “Good.... I want you to enjoy my...what was that word you used? Ahh...my rut.”

With that he slid into you with an easy push. Almost instantly, you thrust up, driving him balls deep inside. He smirked, balancing on his knees and elbows as you sighed in pleasure and began a slow rhythm of up and down. You hands curled into fists in the carpet as the heady pleasure swirled around you. Too quickly, you stumbled in your pace, torn between trying to keep going and the pleasure weakening you.

One large hand slid under your ass and at last—finally—he matched your pace. Automatically, your legs came up to his waist. All of him—his chest, his waist, his back and hips—was beautiful in its muscular proportions and displayed beautifully in the skin tight t-shirt he still wore. It was like a breathtaking sculpture brought to life.

With a soft curse, he gave you one last hard suckle on your tight nipple and then pushed the other hand under your ass. With a jerk, he pulled you up against him, impaling you so hard you saw stars. He was so thick—so hot—as he filled you, pumping his hips.

You screamed as you came, shuddering around his cock. He kept riding your pleasure, smirking at you. He gave you no indication how close he was until he closed his eyes with a soft sound and you were slammed down on the carpet. He ground into you—hard enough you moved up an inch—and you felt his whole body twitch as cum filled you.

He pushed up a bit, balancing precariously on one elbow as he stroked your cheek. Then, he scooped you up—you weren’t sure how—and carried you to his bed. The sheets and pillows smelled lightly of cigar smoke and a faint trace of lime and tequila as you were pushed on them.

You were going to sit up and do something that seemed important, when you saw him shuck off his clothing. He crawled in beside you, wrapping his arms around you and purring when his pushed his fingers between your thighs and felt the sticky white seed there. Idly, he brought it up to your mouth, chuckling softly as you timidly licked them clean.

“I like this story,” he rumbled. “It has my favorite plot.”

You let out a soft whine, more than ready for a nap. For a few minutes, it seemed like you were both going to sleep, but then you felt him grow hard again. It startled you—you had assumed that it would take at least an hour to recover—and your nervous hand went to the throbbing length. You gave an anxious little sound.

“Thanks to the SEP, I have lots of stamina.” He rolled over, offering his naked form for your touch. “And I am fortunate to find a hot little omega who wants this for a whole week.”


	2. The Cowboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, but it can still be fun.

You were idly typing on the computer, adding to your stack of fiction that you wrote and debated publishing on some site somewhere. Under a pseudonym, of course—you really didn’t want anyone knowing your lewd fantasies. Particularly not the alpha/beta/omega stuff—that was where your imagination went wild. But it filled an afternoon, didn’t it? A rainy day could be entirely erased as you had your earphones in and your keyboard in front of you.

So you were very happily engaged in your story, where the buxom and beautiful omega was cornered by the big strong alpha, when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You jerked, looking over your shoulder.

Jesse McCree grinned down at you. “Hey—can I borrow yer computer? I need ta do some stuff.”

You blushed and shrugged. “What’s wrong with yours?”

He flushed and gave you a nervous shrug. “I kind of...gave it a shot of whiskey.”

“You fried it again, didn’t you?” You grinned up at him. He was sort of legendary for drinking his whiskey at his desk. And as big as he was, the standard issue desk and chair was far too small for him, so he ended up spilling his whiskey on it—or dropping cigar ash into the keyboard or getting tamale sauce into the box. Once he even got melted queso somehow inside the computer.

Reluctantly, you let him onto the computer. He probably needed to do a time card or email a report or something. So you pulled out your phone and began looking at your emails as he clacked around clumsily. After an impatient time, you snapped, “Are you done, Jesse?”

He hummed softly. “Not quite, darlin’. Another second or two.”

You growled impatiently and went back to your phone. The rainy day was even more irritating now that you were reduced to looking at stupid cat memes on your phone. And even Jesse shouldn’t be taking this damn long to do whatever it was he was doing.

“Aren’t you done yet, cowboy?”

He gave you a hum that made you look over your shoulder. Sure enough—dammit—he was looking at your writing. “Hey! That’s private.”

He looked up at you in a heated way. “An’ this is what ya think about at night?”

You shoved his shoulder and grabbed the keyboard. Closing the program with a growl, you snapped at him, “None of your business.”

“Hey, darlin’,” he grinned. “Just lookin’. No harm done.”

“Get lost, McCree.”

He did finally take the hint and left you alone. You cleared the cache, deleted the temporary files and basically tried to make sure that the cowboy hadn’t wrecked anything. Well, at least you still had a few hours to do what you loved.

You had gotten through dinner and were back in your room when you heard the first step. Your whole apartment was dark and you were drying off from your shower. You had locked up and managed to get settled again. For some reason, you were still irritated that Jesse had seen your writing and dammit, he had seen that stupid a/b/o fiction.

You did not know whether to delete it or embellish it.


	3. The Alpha Ninja’s Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your boyfriend is enthusiastic about reading whatever you write. No matter what, he will read it. And now he wants to do more.

You were proud of your writing and enjoyed showing most of it to your steady cyborg boyfriend. Genji Shimada was understanding and patient and read everything you showed him. He was adorable in his refusal to help with editing since he felt that he didn’t know languages well enough to help. But he didn’t hesitate to read whatever you gave him.

Still, you had been bashful to show him your very first fiction about an alpha capturing an omega for a rut. He liked smut of all kinds, but this was hard to write and figure out and put your characters in it. While any dirty writing usually made for a happy ending in the evening, this was a new piece and a new angle you weren’t confident about.

If only you had considered how well Genji was at finding things out.

So, you had turned red as a tomato when he brought out the printout he had of your latest story. He had grinned at you and wrapped his arms around you. Finally you had broken down and nodded and sat with him to read it. Which led to tonight—when he smirked and suggested that you both act it out.

So now you bolted down around the narrow hallway between stacks and pallets of things in this warehouse. Your legs were starting to ache and you had absolutely no idea where he was. You paused next to a stack of boxes, trying to catch your breath. The lights kept flickering which made you even more jumpy.

“Omega,” Genji singsonged from somewhere above you. “Your alpha is hungry for you.”

You whimpered as his tenor voice echoed weirdly in the huge metal and cement block building. Of course you weren’t going to escape—not that you really wanted to—but it gave you an elemental thrill to be chased like this. Glancing around, you saw a deep shadow of a tall stack of boxes. Taking in a soft breath, you bolted for it.

With a sharp ting and thunk, you saw a throwing star in one of the pallets in front of you. You gasped and glanced around anxiously. He was nowhere to be found, but you assumed he was able to see you given his excellent aim. So you whirled and ran down another alley to try to find a different hiding place.

It became exhausting because as soon as you thought you were going to get to shelter or or somewhere to hide, another star appeared and you were forced to turn and head in another direction. Your lungs burned and your legs ached as you kept running.

You were trapped against another tall shelf of boxes when you heard Genji again, “Little omega—don’t you want my knot?” God—that way he said it, it did make you throb. “Don’t you want to be bred?”

You did. You wanted it. You knew it would happen.

He dropped down to the floor almost soundlessly behind you. His arms wrapped around you, tugging you against his body. It made you hotter to feel the cool of his metal plates against your overheated skin. Instinctively, you jumped against his arms, only to have him pull you harder against him.

He pulled you down another alley of boxes, groaning as you whined. There was a flat mattress on the floor between some of the shelves. The chase made him excited on a new level and he had thrilled to your whimpers and whines as you had run through the warehouse. Then, as he shoved you to the mattress, you let out an adorable little mewl, your legs spreading as you laid down.

He purred as he slowly knelt to between your ankles, “Little omegas like you want to be bred, right? To swell up with pups and bear their alpha’s children?” He began sliding your clothes off with a wicked grin. “As many pups as their alpha wants.”

You nodded slowly, your mouth dry. His hands were cool and sure and calm as he brushed off the last of your clothes. “Whatever you want, alpha.”

He exposed your hungry core, making you shiver. “Of course, omega. Whatever I want.” His lips caressed your nipples, making you shake as he spread you out. “And now, I want you to serve my rut like a good little omega.”

You took in a deep breath, surprised by the smell of a spicy cologne coming off of him. Usually he smelled only faintly of the metal and oils and lubricants. Now there was a spicy musk that was delicious. (He must have really read your fiction.) You purred as he clacked with the plate over his groin. 

You knew he had been badly injured in his fight against his brother. The story of Hanzo’s cruelty in that battle still gave you chills, especially when the cyborg had late nights of anxiety or panic attacks after a battle. He did have bad dreams still—as much as he could have bad dreams. It had been difficult at first—in the dark Blackwatch days—for him to trust you and your love. He had been most ashamed when you had first mentioned making love because he didn’t believe anyone would want, as he put it, a “damned eunuch”.

At last, after weeks and months of talking and petting, you had both gone to Angela. She had been embarrassed—who wouldn’t?—but had gathered two techs and designed him an artificial penis. It lit up in thin lines that matched his artificial body and, as far as you could tell was almost fully functional. In fact, it was better than the real thing because it almost instantaneously could recover, granting you far more time than a normal man. The only thing it couldn’t do was give you a child.

You sucked in another musky breath and shuddered as you felt him slide effortlessly into you. He let you whine and thrust upward against him, laughed to feel you clutch him and whine against his shoulder. His metallic body was shockingly cool against the overheated skin of your body, but that thick piece in your core was warm.

“Take me like a good little omega,” he hissed, curling around you. “Take all of me.”

“Please!” you whined in a throaty gasp. “Yes, please.”

He laughed again, a warm sound against your collarbone. Jackrabbit fast, he rocked against you until you were sobbing in pleasure against him. “I want all of you for myself.” His growl shook you as your legs clenched harder around his lithe body. “My very own omega mate.”

“Yes,” you screamed.

Suddenly you felt a lump right at your hungry core. For some reason, joined to Genji like this, it gave you a shock. Your shudder broke you rhythm and you gaped at him. Your hips thrust up and your body felt the thrill of his power.

His eyes caught yours, glistening with mischief. He gave you a long lick up your neck, nibbling at your earlobe. “Do you feel my knot, omega?” He laughed at his own joke. “You need not fear my knot when it is so hungry to fill you.”

Ever so slowly, he thrust, stroking you and plucking your every sensitive nerve. Then, slowly, he pressed forward until that foreign feeling of fullness brushed you again. Your muscles locked tight around him and you shook in his arms. And slowly he rubbed the fullness right there until you were falling over the edge with a wail and he pushed it right inside where it locked inside you and filled you with warm liquid.

You shuddered again, gasping for breath and slowly floating back down to earth as he held you. You insides throbbed, a soft ache and an unfamiliar stretching sending tingles of unexpected pleasure. Finally only basking in the last trembling, you looked up in curious wonder.

He laughed with a merry smile and nuzzled you again. “I wanted to get this right for you, my beautiful girl.” His finger traced your lips as you returned his smile. “I did, didn’t I? I couldn’t quite figure out what cologne smelled like the rut scent, so I went with what I liked best.

“And I went to Angela for the other...thing.” He flushed in pleased embarrassment. “The good thing about having an artificial dick is that it can be in any shape we want. Sooooo...I asked for one with a lump like a knot in the base. I wanted it to be right, but I was worried that it would hurt you.”

You smiled up at him shyly. He had always wanted to please you. Sometimes it was overwhelming that someone like him—a talented and skillful ninja who could do anything it seemed, someone who was a decorated hero, a thoughtful and handsome boyfriend—would ever see anything in you like he did. “It was perfect, Genji. Just perfect.”

“Just like you, hime.”


	4. The Southern Dragon’s Mate

You stared at the last paragraph with a feeling of disgust. For some reason, your writing just wasn’t coming together. You wanted to finish this and get it published—you were trying to answer a challenge of writing an alpha/beta/omega fic set in the back of an old Impala. Finally, you had decided that your alpha found the omega in the old Transportation and Travel Museum and got caught in there after hours. It was the best you could do, since the challenge ended at midnight, and you were hoping it was good enough.

Finally, you decided to send it to the one person you trusted to see your unedited work—a dear friend named ‘Hana Shinza’ who worked with you in the records department. Hana often proofread your work, helping you and making suggestions to make it better. She was also definitely home right now, and available since the season of her favorite show had gone into reruns. Not to mention that she had sent you her work for the challenge yesterday.

You sent the work almost without looking in your haste, praying that she could get back to you soon. You crossed your fingers and went to do your dishes. There was nothing after the dishes were done. There was nothing after you got your laundry done. There was still nothing when you were ready for bed.

Just to get it done—and to get your little electronic badge for finishing the challenge—you did your editing as best as you could and submitted it. No one would condemn you for a few bad spellings, would they?

The next evening, you sent another email to Hana:

“Hey, Hana. Your work was great—congrats on getting the most votes. So, what happened last night? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Her reply was almost immediate:

“Hey there! Thanks. Your work was great too, but why didn’t you send me yours?”

You looked at her reply three times before sending a response:

“I did send it to you, Hana. What? I don’t understand.”

You went to your email and began combing through the offers for pizza coupons, junk email, a blast email asking everyone to please recycle, and a few random spam emails for various businesses. Then, you finally saw it—your email going to “Hanzo Shimada”, rather than “Hana Shinza”.

Oh. Fuck.

Of all the people who you could have accidentally sent a smutty, slutty thing like that to, the very last person who would have had any understanding about a simple email ‘oops’ would be him. You would have rather sent it in a blast to all of the commanders than have sent it to him. He was legendary for his extreme lack of a sense of humor. He wasn’t going to laugh it off—he was probably even now going to tell you off. Or worse, make a complaint to your superiors about your lack of restraint or something.

You groaned and shot a short email to Hana, explaining what happened. Her reply was a hundred crying emojis. Then, just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, there was another reply....

Hanzo Shimada wanted to see you, tomorrow evening. You were about to refuse when you looked at the last few lines, that read, “...and if we cannot resolve this matter, then I will consider it a matter of insubordination that will be reported to your superiors.”

Fuck.

Double fuck.

He was going to ream you a new hole. He was going to scold you—or worse—and you were going to be aching after he got done with you. He was not going to listen to your explanations of a mistaken email address or anything. He was definitely not going to listen to you try to explain what you were writing or whatever you tried to say.

So you shivered through the next day, feeling cold and hot in turns as you tried to mentally prepare for whatever he was going to do to you. Write ups? A million pushups? A hundred apologies? What would he have planned for you?

You saw him in the cafeteria as he sipped his hot tea and looked over a report. He was always studying, reading, or something. Sometimes he didn’t seem to glance up at all as he kept going over whatever he was looking at. Then, as soon as someone needed to be grilled, he’d look up slowly with those burning dark eyes and that person would get exactly what they deserved, which usually meant a dressing down. You couldn’t recall when he last congratulated or praised someone, which gave you shivers at how inhuman it made him seem.

That evening, you went to his office and knocked on the door. He buzzed you in, and you timidly opened the door and stepped inside. His office was surprisingly sublime—a gray carpet under dark wood furniture in the beautifully austere Japanese style. He had a desk and two chairs and a low cabinet behind it with a stand holding a bow and a brass tray with a tiny stick of incense burning on it. There was a desk lamp focused down on papers in front of him with thin, dark stems going to an almost flat base providing more light than the darkly dimmed overhead lights. A scroll hung on one wall with an ink drawing of mountains and a twisting tree with a crain flying over it. A small, expensive player sent out a soft, soothing shamisen tune. Even the music player, his phone and his thin computer were in a spare, clean lines that seemed to be delicately and precisely designed.

He barely looked up before gesturing at the chairs across the desk from him. You couldn’t see what it was he was so engrossed in, but from the stern look on his face, it must have been a serious matter. He flipped a page and looked back and forth, taking out a pen and making a few marks.

Despite the clean, soothing decor and the beautiful music, you felt anxious and fidgety as he kept looking at the papers. Finally, you asked, “Sir? Could you—?”

“Just a moment,” he said smoothly, raising a single finger.

You sighed and frowned, folding your hands in your lap as he turned another page. He went through another few pages in silence. You were surprised to note that his long hair was down in a thick wash of shiny black over his shoulders. He so rarely wore it down and it was actually surprisingly beautiful. He was also not in the traditional kyudo ghi, either. He was in an elegant silver gray kimono with a navy hakama with thin gray pinstripes going down the legs. It made him look elegant and professional, and the colors accented his dusky coloring and the small silver wings of gray hair at his temples.

He sat back in his chair, taking the papers with him and tapping the paper with his pen. Finally, he nodded, settling back on the exact center of his desk. You stared as he tapped the edges so that they formed the neatest possible rectangle in the middle of his desk. Then he stared at the pile thoughtfully.

“Sir?” you asked.

Hanzo looked at you with burning dark eyes. You flushed and shivered as he studied you without saying anything else. He stayed still, watching as you squirmed in the chair. “And?”

You took in a deep breath. “I am truly sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to send you that email. It was supposed to go to Hana Shinza...and I needed to get it edited. I needed—.”

His stare remained unconvinced and solemn. “And?”

“And I didn’t know it had gone to you. I just was...careless. I didn’t pay attention when my...when the email—damn.... I’m sorry.” Your words were stuttering and flowed out, only to hit him like a brick wall and bounce off. “I really just was careless and I didn’t mean....”

Hanzo only nodded thoughtfully, staring at you with a gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps you meant to send it to me.”

You colored a brilliant red from your ears down your chest. This was absolutely not the way you meant for this to go. You absolutely didn’t mean to even suggest that you intended him to ever see it. “Of...of-of course not, sir. I never—ever—meant for you to ever see this.”

His eyes narrowed slightly and he only said, “And why not?”

God, your parents used to do this—make you squirm and keep answering open ended questions until you confessed everything you had ever done. He was even better than your parents, though. You were about to go on your knees and beg his forgiveness when he stood up and loomed over you.

Hanzo moved to stand in front of the desk and stared down harshly at you. “You meant to send it to me. The only thing is—why?” His eyes narrowed again and his eyebrow arched with a frown. “And...how did you know?”

“Know what?!”

Slowly, he reached and his fingers grazed the skin of your neck. “You do not have any marks, which means perhaps no one told you.”

You flushed red. “The story? It’s all...all fiction!”

He finally gave you a clue and shook his head. “I do not think it could be so...pure without some kind of...outside help.”

He grabbed you and picked you up to stare at you in the eyes. His features seemed to be sharpen and his eyes flashed with a sudden golden light that made his features seem even more exotic. His voice seemed to be deeper as well, a strange timbre giving you a shiver down your spine.

“How could you know this?” His head dipped to nuzzle your throat. “I have asked myself this over and over—how could you have known?” He pulled you close against his body, grinning as you shuddered. “I wondered if you had perhaps been pursuing me. But that is impossible, is it not? I would have seen you, noticed you.”

“I wasn’t!” you whimpered. As you stared at him, you saw that, somehow, he seemed to have a bit of shine to his face, a faint sprinkling of glitter or sparkles. You kept staring as he shrugged a little, a thick lock of hair falling forward. “I really wasn’t!”

One huge hand released you to click off the desk lamp and the office plunged into a shadowy gray. You stared at his hands, surprised to see that his nails were actually quite a bit longer than you had originally supposed. They curved, too, in a dangerous way that made you shiver again.

You panted out a whine, surprised at the scent in the air. Perhaps it was the incense that slowly burned down to ash. There was something that made you feel weak and humbled and made your heart stutter in an unexpected rhythm. You took another deep breath and your mind swum as his hand stroked your body.

Your voice was weak as you demanded, “What is this?!”

He nuzzled your neck softly and it had to be the coarse hair of along his jaw that scraped you so warmly. You shuddered again, as his hands began stroking your arms. “I did not believe that anyone could follow me like that, but I do not know how else you might have known. That is a...most interesting mystery.”

You looked up at him with your mouth gaping. Perhaps it was the way that the dim lights overhead shown in his hair, but there seemed to be something odd in the way that the archer’s thick hair parted, almost like he had horns. Then he shook his head and you saw...that he did have short, pointed horns.

In fact, as you were looking at him, relishing the feel of his rough hands stroking you in an unexpectedly pleasurable way, you saw that the shine of sweat along the edge of his face was in fact a line of precisely spaced...scales.

Your hand went up almost unwillingly to stroke them, fascinated by how they might feel. He grinned, closing his eyes as your fingertips brushed them. You couldn’t believe the smooth feel of the overlapping silvery blue scales. His eyes were verifiably lighter and more golden now for all that the pupils were blown wide and he closed them just a bit as your fingertips went from his hairline to his jaw and to his neck.

You were fascinated now, with his skin and the way his nostrils flared slightly as you kept finding more and more shiny scales as his skin disappeared beneath the spotless white collar at the edge of the silvery silk. He gave you an approving sound and a slight nod as one hand went to cradle your hip into his large palm.

The heat boiled off of him and made you gasp in another breath filled with that heady fragrance. You felt your knees starting to buckle as the archer pushed you up to sit on the edge of his desk. With a careless shrug and a flick of his long fingers, the neckline went slack and then fell open to show his massive chest. With another shrug, it fell to his waist entirely to show you that the sparkling scales went down his throat to his shoulders and down his arms.

Hesitantly, he took your hand in his and pressed your open palm along his belly. The sparkling scales were wider here, more flat in almost rectangular blocks rather than precise diamonds. They were warmer here, too, soft and silky over thick, hard and rippling muscles.

He gave you a wordless purr that seemed to vibrate approval. And then he did it again when you brought your other palm to rest beside the other one. Instead of a scowl, he gave you a half-smile and a hesitant smile and a proud nod.

Gently, his hand came up to thread through your hair and tilt your face against his neck. His cologne was strongest there, but not overpowering or stinging with alcohol. It was some unique scent that didn’t seem to owe its beauty to chemicals or companies, but to something more natural, more primeval. You unconsciously nuzzled the crook of his neck, settling there as easily as if you had been like this a thousand times.

He took a half step closer, settling gently between your legs and dropping his stance in some way you couldn’t define. There was another purr, a deep rumbling in his chest that seemed almost to defy human description. “You are...perfect, hime,” he sighed as your hands began moving by themselves. He twisted so that he could nuzzle your neck in return before brushing against your temple and going into your hair. “I had not thought I would ever find one such as you.... Especially not here—so far from home.”

You were entranced with the feel as the scales became more pronounced. They seemed to be emerging, pushing out against your fingers before going down and settling smoothly against each other in some kind of foreign, smooth way. You had felt a snake once—all cool, flat scales and cool skin—but this was entirely different in its welcome warmth.

The silk floated down off him and to the floor with a sigh. He shuddered again, his skin sliding and jerking in a way that reminded you of a horse shooing flies off. With a nod, he pressed lightly on your wrists to push your hands to his hips and the small, discrete knots there.

You shuddered as he rubbed the knots into your palms. He grinned as you jerked to stare up at him, your curiosity and shock evident. “You need not be so surprised.” His features seemed to grow more sharp as he smiled. “You already know so much, hime.”

“But I don’t know anything,” you insisted as you gasped when he pushed his hips forward. There was a long ridge there, rubbing between your legs insistently and you were blearily tried to figure out what you were feeling. “I just...wrote some stuff.”

He laughed softly, nuzzling you again. “Yet you know so much.” He nipped your neck with a curl of his tongue. “How could you have written it so precisely—with such detail and so many facts and get it all so beautifully right if you did not know it in your heart?”

You stared at his hands and saw that they were clawed. The thumb seemed more nimble, too—as if it had moved some way to be able to reach his pinkie better. The scales were thicker, more pronounced and almost knobby and the nails now definitely curling over his fingertips. His horns had grown, lengthened to graceful arches over his hair. His eyes were definitely golden with an almost reptilian hue.

A claw pierced your clothing and drug down between your legs with a ripping sound. You moaned in embarrassment as his fingertip found your liquid arousal between your thighs. He chuckled as you writhed under him. “You know everything in your heart as though you had been born one of my kind. How could you be so right and yet not one of my kin?”

He brought your hands to the knots on his hips, helping you untie them. His obi was tangled in the waist of the hakama and you pushed both of them off of him. He kicked them away and you gasped to see a long, sinuous tail uncoil from his left leg. It glittered entirely from his waist to the tip and there were rippling coils of dark blue-black hair at the tip with a small section of silvery gray threaded through it.

With only a few jerks, he had your clothing ripped enough to show your most intimate skin to him. His tongue flicked out for half a second and it had a shallow fork in the end, but it was a beautiful agony to have it lap at your nipple. The fork gently surrounded the sensitive nipple and it could pinch the pink skin.

You whined as your mind finally let go of reality and whirled away in a fog of scent and sensation. When he ducked between your legs and that long tongue pressed inside you, you shrieked as it seemed to go deeper than you had ever felt before. You finally leaned back, laying on his desk as the papers spilled in a fluttering storm around you.

Finally he stood and you saw a glimpse of his pearlescent cock before it slid into you. You whined as it seemed to stop short with a huge lump. It was almost what you wanted—just so close to the depth that cried out for fulfillment before stopping short. You grabbed his hips impatiently.

He went back to your neck, lapping and nibbling the skin carefully. “Is it so strange to you, hime?” He looked down at you with a smirk and a knowing glint in his eye. “I do not want my knot to be a terrifying thing to you or to hurt you, but you knew that.” You shook your head slowly in your confusion. “You knew everything—even that I was going to be in my rut. That is why you sent that scandalous thing to me.

“It is by far the most unusual and clever ploy that anyone has ever tried to get my attention.” He began lapping at your skin, dropping quick little kisses and soft caresses that made your breath hitch. “I have seen every form of attempt to seduction, every barely there form of dress and every type of approach.” He laughed again in that low, sexy way. “I had seen it all, and I had thought myself immune to them all.

“Then, your little email with all the details. I read it three times, do you know that? Three times before I could control myself enough to even reply to you. It was as if you had been next to me, inside me, and knew everything. Knew that my kind mated for life, hunted for a mate and claimed that mate and fought off all competitors. Knew that we went to great lengths to find a good mate to bear our pups and who could bear the ruts we are afflicted with to take our knot and our seed to bear new life.” He kissed you again before going back to your neck and nuzzling you right there. “You knew my rut was coming....”

“I didn’t,” you whined as his hips ground into yours. It was definitely warm and rounded as he pushed it gently against your weeping core. “I didn’t know anything.”

“Shhh.... Princess, it is only my knot.” He pushed gently and you felt the knot stretch your core. His eyes were hooded as he kept nuzzling you and his wild hair floated around the two of you. “It will not hurt you if you can trust me.”

You sighed as he pushed against you again. His strong warmth made you delirious as he thrust gently back and forth. You looked up at him in shock as pleasure alone seemed to hold you up. He shivered, rolling his scales against your skin.

You shuddered as his cock jerked up inside you. He lapped eagerly at your skin, running his heavy tongue over skin and kissing you before squeezing your breasts. Your whine made him laugh softly and begin thrusting harder. Higher and higher and driven by his desire, you seemed to cling harder to him with every move.

Then you felt that final wave, the highest, tightest pleasure that twisted your gut. His knot kept scraping, pushing as you whimpered against his scales. He let out a purr and his teeth scraped the skin of your neck before he bit down.

You screamed his name and felt him push hard one last time. The knot filled your core with a tight fire, stretching your most sensitive flesh to its limit before settling in deeper. Your climax was almost immediate, choking your scream and clamping down hard on every part of him you could reach.

He let out a guttural roar, arching up with his head thrown back and his chest out. His hips shook and that long tail spasmed. It thrashed one more time before twining around your legs together. There was another harsh sound as he thrust forward a last time before flooding your insides and painting your womb with his seed.

You shook, trembling against him and panting in unison with him. He all but collapsed over you, dropping to his elbows on the desk. You whined, shivering against him and curling up against his warmth as much as you could. You even untangled your legs from his tail and wrapped them around his waist as tightly as you could so that keep that fullness inside your body.

He took a moment for a deep breath and nodded with his nose in your neck. “This is...not where I had intended to have my mate the first time.” He laughed softly, smiling down at you. “It seems that my rut—.”

“Wha-?!”

He snorted, “Adorable. You know so much and yet are still so innocent.”

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in his haori coat and in his arms again. His footsteps tapped lightly in the slick hallway as he took you to his apartment. Again, it was austere and elegant with a cleanly minimal amount of beautifully designed furniture and decoration.

He took you immediately to the bedroom—his bedroom. It had a flat futon with long pillows around the edges and then more pillows filling out the corners. Quilts were rolled into loose cylinders, like comfortable bolsters softening the corners even more. Against the wall was a low chest of drawers with an ancient-looking bonsai on top.

He laughed—a lazy, languid sound—as he settled you down in the middle. Immediately, he was behind you and pulling off both your clothes. He pressed his scales against you, his tail twisting around your hips. Pulling a quilt up, he wrapped you in it.

“I am the Southern Dragon of the Shimadas, an ancient ancestry of warriors and mystics who upheld the bond between humans and dragons,” he whispered into your hair.

“By tradition, we can find our mates instinctively, immediately recognizing them as if we were two parts of a whole. We know our mates from the first as if we knew them from birth.” He sighed. “It is our nature that when we find our mate, we claim them and we join with them for life. We must cherish our mates because we are bound to them, but they are not always bound to us.”

You murmured sleepily, letting him push you down into the soft mattress. As big as the futon was, it was impossible to find an angle that was not comfortable, not spacious enough for you to stretch out fully. It was warm and cozy, too.

He sighed, staring at you with warmth as he knelt beside you and tucked you in. “I had thought that, when I departed—abandoned my hereditary nest to travel across the sea and join my brother in this strange gathering of heroes—I would not ever find my mate. I accepted that I would remain a dragon without a mate, without a nest of my own and without....” He shrugged sadly. “Without a nest, without a mate...I would never have pups of my own.”

You smiled up at him, marveling at his scales and the exotic beauty they revealed. “And...now?”

He laid down behind you, his tail rolling over your legs sibilantly. “I never thought that I would find my mate so far from my home. I never thought that it would be my turn to have a mate, my turn to have pups.

“When I got your...story, I knew from the first that it was a mistake.” He stroked your head, your hair, with long moves that made your skin tingle and your muscles relax. “But I could not stop myself from reading it.

“And I knew that you had a...a passion, a care for nuance and tone that captivated me. It was as if I had your shadow behind me every moment. To guess one or two things—that could happen. But to describe it so perfectly—the desperation of a rut, the feel of the knot growing, the rut lasting for a six days exactly, the way that we must rest and recover. Everything was perfect to the last point. To do that is to be inspired beyond understanding.”

You barely were awake when you asked, “And we’re doing this for a week?”

He kissed the back of your neck. “I am your dragon—you are my mate. It is my charge and duty to take care of you.” He smiled, curling around you. “As you wrote.”


End file.
